Not That Simple
by wtsl
Summary: Set during the autumn of the Trio's fifth school year, Harry starts to dwell on his problems. Hermione and Ron push their own troubles aside in order to help him. Warning: Swearing, eating disorder
1. Chapter 1

**Setting: Autumn, the trio's fifth school year.**

 **Warning: Swearing**

 **Chapter One**

With a book in her lap and a thick tree shading the surprisingly bright sun and where one could practically taste the spicy autumn air, Hermione could finally begin her "light reading" without any disturbances. She could not stand being in that castle anymore. Even the study hall got on her nerves. She couldn't bear another minute in that damn common room with people who kept on talking loudly, asking for help for their homework or discussing frivolous topics or whatever Harry was up to these days.

The topic of Harry Potter had become quite a topic to bring up. Was You Know You really back? Had Harry gone mad?

Harry had been so quiet, but that was understandable considering the circumstances. He hadn't sought out for help though, as he didn't want to drag other people into his sorrows.

"Fool," Hermione muttered under her breath. She sighed and opened her book to where the bookmarker peeked out. She leaned back against the tree, relieved that she could finally have some peace and thereby finally concentrate. It was only after her eyes kept on circling the same line over and over again that she realized that her worry had exceeded her ability to focus.

Hermione heedlessly shoved her book into her bag before briskly heading towards the common room in hope to find her lost - and hopefully only in the non-literal sense - friend. Her hair bounced in contrast to how she felt.

 ** _HP – HP – HP_**

The cheerful common room with the loud fire and conversations met her with a jolt. How could so many people be so joyful when her best friend was hurting? She looked around the room at the few people with tense shoulders and furrowed brows, leaning over schoolbooks that they were far from finishing. She shook her head and remembered when she used to be able to sit in a lively room and still concentrate on a task. With everything going on in her life, it seemed ludicrous to even consider that she could focus in such an environment. Although maybe if she gave it another chance...

There was no time for ridiculous scenarios. Not when Harry was in trouble. Maybe not openly, but Hermione could tell that he was deeply bothered by something dark.

"Hermione!" A familiar voice called from across the room through the chatter. Hermione looked at her dorm mate who had looked up from her study book. She was, without a doubt, going to ask for help. Her toothy grin said it all. Everyone always asked for Hermione's help. Then, some of them called her a "know-it-all". It wasn't only students who called her that, one of the teachers had called her those words on numerous occasions.

No one had ever taken the words back - no one knew how much they hurt.

Why were people teasing her with her being passionate about magic? _Magic_ for heaven's sake! The thing so many people, including her before she knew she was a witch, thought was utterly absurd to even consider to be real.

 _'Insufferable know it all'_ had been one of the many remarks that had hurt her the most. The worst part was that it had been the previously mentioned teacher who had directed the hateful words at her.

"What?" Hermione asked the girl who had asked for her help rather forcefully.

"What's does a thres… threth… threas… How do you pronounce it?"

Hermione held her breath in silent frustration. A snarky comment was on her tongue and she knew that if she parted her lips, it would fleet out and that would mean further dislike on her part.

But why should she care whether people liked her or not? That was not what she was here for. Neither was she here to teach other students, no matter how much their mistakes bothered her. Hermione was here to learn and to take care of the people she loved.

Hermione pushed her own troubles aside and turned her back on the person who asked her the question and proceeded to go up to her room, where she would lay her book and try to figure out where Harry had gone off to.

 ** _HP – HP – HP_**

An ominous silence greeted Hermione as she entered the Shrieking Shack through the tunnel. She was positive that this was Harry's hiding place; he was smart enough not to enter the woods alone, hadn't gone to Hagrid's as that meant talking and Hermione sensed that he just wanted to get away from that castle, much like her. He couldn't show his face at Hogsmeade either as everybody knew his face. The Shrieking Shack was also the place that Harry found out the truth about Sirius and so many other things, which meant that it held a personal value.

Hermione's heart wrenched when she found Harry on the floor with his fingers dug deeply into his thick black hair that desperately yearned for a cut.

"H-harry," Hermione whispered.

 _This is silly_ , she thought, _why am I acting so cautiously, he's my_ friend _for crying out loud!_ Hermione took a rather confident step towards Harry.

He remained inert.

Hermione swallowed and took a shaky breath.

This was definitely not silly. Harry was in pain and people were just talking about him saying that he'd lost his marbles or was whining whatever. It was as though people thought he could just get over watching his friend _die,_ scratch that, be _murdered_ by the same dark wizard that had killed his parents and many others.

Voldemort was back and there was no denying it.

 _Where's Ron?_ Hermione's thought was abruptly cut short when Harry peered at her from behind matted locks of black hair. The green eyes locked with the brown and raw grief was sent across the short distance.

Hermione tried to figure out the apt way to start a conversation with Harry. Before she could begin, his shaky voice croaked.

"I'm fine, I just need some time alone." His jaw was locked tightly with determination. A shaky breath shattered his brittle demeanour. Hermione shook her head.

"No Harry, you need to deal with things. I think you've had to much ti-"

"How do _you_ know what's best for _me_?" Harry raised his voice; causing Hermione to take a step back and her face lose a bit of colour.

"I'm just saying that having all this time alone might not be the best way-"

"Shut up! You don't know what best for me, Hermione! Stop acting like such a know-it-all… Intolerable…"

"Don't call me that…" Hermione mumbled, unable to mask her emotions.

"Stop thinking you know what's best for me," Harry said sternly.

"I just want to help."

"With what, Hermione, what?!"

"If you'd just tell me – or anyone, what's going on-"

"You'll what? Pity me?"

"Help you!" Hermione shouted back, unable to keep her bear the emotions in the room.

"You can't help me! None of you can!" Harry took two large strides towards the girl. Hermione grasped her wand tightly.

This didn't slip from Harry's notice.

"Really? You're going to use magic against me?"

The silence in the room roared, raged through the space and thumped violently in Hermione's ears. Nervous sweat glistened from her brow.

"Do it." Harry said, glaring her right in the eye once again.

 _Has he gone mental?_ Hermione thought for a second. Of course Harry hadn't. He wasn't the one to blame, but then again that didn't eliminate the chance of him going a little crazy after witnessing the tragic death of Cedric Diggory. But was that the extent of it? There sadly seemed to be more.

"If you'd just understand what I'm going through-"

"That's what we're trying to do, but you won't let us!" This time it was Hermione's turn to interrupt.

"What was your exact intention of coming here, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Don't you have better things to do? I know that it's a Saturday, but where's your homework for next Friday?" Harry scoffed. "I don't need help so why the fuck are you here?"

Harry flinched at his own words. Why the hell was he taking this out on Hermione? He watched as his friend tried to regain her composure with her wand still grasped in her hand. He watched as she tried to hide the tears and emotion. Gosh, he had caused this! Harry: the asshole.

"USE YOUR WAND!" Harry burst out, regret eating him inside out by every word. "Useless."

"Well, I didn't know that you felt that way about me," Hermione said through her first tears. She turned her head and let the rest fall as she made her swift exit out the Shrieking Shack.

She thought that she could hear a faint calling of her name, but knew better and brushed it off like it was her mind trying to make her feel better.

Harry slid down the wall processing what just had happened. He couldn't believe that he had acted that way - to Hermione of all people! He wanted to punch something as his rage wouldn't cease.

 **To be continued...**

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts regarding this story. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

With cheeks filled with food, Ron Weasley resembled much like a chipmunk in his current state. The crease of concern on Hermione's forehead grew deeper and she took short yet rapid steps over to her friend. Yes _friend_ , that was it.

"Ron!" She snapped, almost making her crush choke on whatever crummy substance he was eating.

"Give a guy a warning," he said after a cough. "Hey, have you seen Harry? I've looked for him everywhere."

"Obviously," Hermione frowned, "you haven't searched everywhere."

"Common room, Great Hall, Hagrid's… You name it, I've looked. No sign of him."

"That's because you're afraid to go near it."

It took a moment, but after realizing what she meant, Ron groaned loudly.

"I broke my leg there," he said, idly picking at his food.

"Yes, I know. I was there," Hermione said in a low voice. In the back of her head, she replayed when Ron stood on both a healthy and a shattered leg in order to defend Harry. It turned out that there hadn't been anything to save him from, but the heroic gesture never left Hermione's mind.

A slight blush crept up her neck.

"What did he say when you found him?"

"He's not doing well."

"No shit, did he actually admit it?" Ron asked, staring directly into Hermione's eyes. The girl shook her head. "Of course not." Ron muttered, dropping his fork onto the plate with a dull thud.

 _ **HP – HP – HP**_

 _Why do people assume that I can handle everything? What, I'm Harry-Fucking-Potter and that means that I'm immortal and some sort of genius? I'm only fifteen! Can't anyone help me lift this heavy weight off my shoulders? Why do_ I _have to watch all this death?_

Harry desperately wanted to talk to someone who _understood_ what he was going through. _I could write to Sirius but I don't want to bother him with my problems. I don't want to be his burden. It's just so hard though…_

Harry felt like a little kid who couldn't reach the top shelf. At least they could ask their parents to help them. He cringed at the thought. Why was his mind acting like this?

 _Maybe I am going crazy._

Harry knew people cared for him. Hagrid, Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys... There were still so many witches and wizards out there who believed that he was a nutcase.

Even some witches and wizards who wanted to kill him.

Pushing depressing thoughts aside, Harry contemplated on his life.

If so many people cared for him, why was he still sad?

He wouldn't have come this far if it weren't for his friends.

 _Maybe I_ _have_ _gone crazy. After all, I am talking to myself in a haunted house._

Harry huffed. This place was supposed to be haunted, but what about all the ghosts at Hogwarts? Moaning Myrtle was the first to appear in his mind. He remembered during his second school year when students thought that he was the heir of Slytherin.

In Harry's second school year, people were afraid of him. He was, apparently, the parseltongue who was the Heir of Slytherin. Now, people stayed away from him, not because they were frightened of him, but because was falsely accused of spreading terrible lies.

Harry sat on the floor, idly fiddling with the rim of his shirt. _How pathetic am I?_

Harry rose from where he sat. He had to go back to the school, or at he saw it, home.

 _ **HP – HP – HP**_

"Hiya Harry!" The Weasley twins said instantaneously when Harry walked into the nearly empty common room. They both grinned at the way he jumped back a little.

"Guess we aren't quite the lookers we thought we were," Fred said. A large grin spread on both the twins' faces until Harry tried to move past them.

"Hey Harry, everything alright?" George asked, his voice laced with sudden concern at the lack of retort from Harry.

"Bloody hell, he looks like something the cat dragged in," Fred mumbled to George.

"Yes in your perfect dream world, everything is wonderful" Harry snapped. _If they could just take things more seriously…_

"Wow, mate, we didn't mean to piss you off," Fred said solemnly. Harry sighed regretfully.

 _Could this day be any worse?_ He asked himself.

"I know I'm sorry, guys. Rough day," Harry shrugged and went up to his dorm.

"What's he doing here during supper?" Fred asked his sibling.

"I don't know. Come to think of it, it's a while since I've seen him. Where are Ron and Hermione?" George answered.

"I don't know. Gees, this is becoming too tense."

"He didn't even ask why _we_ were here during supper," George remarked.

"That's because we distract people with our humour," Fred smiled.

"Don't forget our dashing looks, Fred," George returned the smile before they returned to their business.

"The Puking Pastilles are my favourite."

After five minutes they were interrupted again.

"Hello Ron and Hermione," they said before even looking at who entered the room.

"How the hell did you know that it was us?" Ron asked his brothers gently despite his words. His extensive use of 'bad words' was something they were used to though.

"Trelawney taught us well," George said.

"Yeah and your brains are also connected. That's why you do everything together," Ron responded.

"We don't do _everything_ together," Fred said.

"No," George agreed.

"I didn't follow George yesterday when he went to a secret place with–"

"Ew gross," Ron started, "I didn't need to know that!" Ron pulled a face of disgust at his brothers' words.

"It's completely natural!" George called after his youngest brother with a grin as Ron stomped up the stairs to find Harry and put an end to this.

Hermione, outward peaceful, went to the fireplace and opened her book on her lap.

 _Finally,_ she thought.

"Uh Hermione…" Fred asked, as their business was something they decided was to be secret when they worked on ideas.

Hermione looked up at them with squinted eyes.

"Why aren't you two in the Hall having supper?" She asked with acrimony.

"Yikes," Fred whispered, "back to work, George."

 _ **HP – HP – HP**_

 _Bloody hell, he looks like something the cat dragged in_ , was Ron's first thought when he laid eyes on his best friend.

"Harry, won't you just talk about what you're going through?" Ron said, almost pleaded. He hated seeing Harry in this miserable state. It was too much to bear.

"It's never just ' _just_ '," Harry snapped. He shook his head, "you know what I mean." Ron nodded and kept his head low.

"But Harry can't you see that it's eating you from the inside? You're not acting like yourself..."

"It's kind of hard," Harry mumbled, opening up a little. He saw Ron's eyes shinning with hope. Another headshake came from Harry. "There is no simple explanation."

"If it's not simple, maybe we should ask Hermione for help," Ron joked. "We've all been bloody worried."

Harry stood rigid. Everyone cared so much about him. People were worried. Here he was looking at his best friend who tried so hard to help.

Here he was wallowing in his misery.

"Jus…" His voice trailed off. He cleared it, "talk about it, please."

"It's hard."

"I know it can difficult..."

"How do you know with your easy life?" Harry said carelessly.

Ron bit back his retort and simply nodded at his friend who obviously didn't know Ron's secret.

 **A/N: I know that I've put Harry in a bad light but bear with me!**


End file.
